Path of the Prodigal Son
by Rinslet
Summary: Bound to responsibilities, to orders, to his father and memories of a well too uncomfortable armor left in his wake, he sought refuge in the sky. The story of how six women influenced his life and followed him on the path of the Prodigal Son...
1. Mother

May 2010 edit: Ugh, the fact that we can't use double space hurts my eyes. So I went back to reupload the chapters for it to be easier to read, using dots (and makes more sense). And while I was at it, erased all my useless banter at the beginning/end of the chapters and the stupid flourishes I used at that time (my god...) as it was too distracting. Enjoy.

English is not my first or my second language, so forgive me if I make mistakes…

**Summary**: Bound to responsibilities, to orders, to his father and memories of a well too uncomfortable armor left in his wake, he sought refuge in the sky. The story of how six women influenced his life and followed him on the path of the Prodigal Son.

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_Path of the Prodigal Son  
by Rinslet_

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_From their spilled blood did we see light and from their love did we know sanctity, for it is their nature to be our shield and sanctuary. May the mothers in Ivalice know that they are the true light that shines our world._

-Memoirs of Marquis Halim Ondore IV, pronounced upon the death of the late queen, her highness Amelia, wife of late King Raminas B'nargin Dalmasca.-

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Like how he would say to his company or to the rest of the damn nosy people who wished to know, the first woman that he ever cared for and ever loved was his mother. Any man that differed from that concept are simply fools or, according to him, not a man all. Or perhaps it was simply his own unique thing that singled him out from the others. Who knew?

Her name was Viola Cian Dante, a woman of poor constitution who refused to give in and liked to go on long walks around the city, much to her husband's distress. Before her marriage, she was a teacher at the Akademy. In his innocent eyes, she was the most beautiful, honest and gentle woman who had ever lived. How his father ever discovered her amidst this crowd of greedy _fools_, he knew naught. Every details of her physique were carefully sketched into his mind, from the length of her hair to the light dimples on her ivory cheeks. Her hands, he recalled, always carried the smell of mixed perfumes that she liked to compose in the morning in font of her vanity.

She showed her love and caring not in words but actions. She was a woman who spoke little, yet her presence alone could fill the silence and make it bearable.

As she watched him grow up, she knew that he was different from other kids. Where the others fell and cried, he stood back up and gritted his teeth, eyes shiningwith determination. She decided to take his education in her own hands. Aside from his usual classes, she would pull him into other teachings. Unlike the other parents, she would not limit his knowledge to only Archadian scholarship. Having a mind opened by wonderswas better than one closed by beliefs. In this city where knowledge was power, she would have her son become the strongest.

When he came back from school, she would call upon him to her study room and they would spend hours in there. She taught him about the sky_, _how to read the wind, the species of the birds, the depth of the oceans and many other mysteries. She was the kind of woman who would wake him up early just to let him see the sunrise or make him stand outside for longs hours at night just to count the stars. Proud, his father would sometimes engage his son in a long, adult conversation just to see the extent of his knowledge. His quick and wittyremarks sometimes surprised him, and Cidolfus Demen Bunansa had to let out a low chuckle, eyes beaming with pride. There was certainly something promisingin this lad.

Their son was the kind of boy who was always worried about his mother's health, so despite his popularityat the Akademy, he had made nary a friend for he simply had no time. Though being an Archadian gentry and living in Nilbasse, his family wasn't that rich. His father had only started to work in some sort of laboratory and his mother would soon quit the Akademy due to her faltering health. When his father rose to the rank of a researcher for the Archadian Empire, compensation to his great skills, the family grew prosper but thankfully the son didn't developed a haughty attitude (his mother was ever the more strict ) but like most boys, he was ambitious. Cidolfus was never the more proud when his son's interest reached his field of work. The boy would look into his father's blueprints about _airships _and towers for hours and even let out smart suggestions.

_I have high hope for you, my son!_

By the time he was fifteen, his father brought him to Balfonheim, the pirate's lair. The boy was confused, for he was taught by the Akademy not to mingle with _pirates _(not that their teachings was anything absolute, but still the one thing they got right was the _smell_). His father's answer was somewhat evasive and absent-minded. There was this item that he absolutely needed that could bring him there, wherever 'there' was…

He didn't press further.

While his father was negotiating with a pirate (completed with the 'arrrr' and 'garrr' which made the boy raised an eyebrow), the lad sat down on a crate and waited, a hand under his chin while the other rested on his leg. The pirates reminded him of chocobos, always runninghere and there with their cargos and spoils. Their world was supposed to be inferior, uncultured next to the citizens of real kingdoms, but the boy was amazed that their world was _alive_and always_moving_. The great were respected for their feat; not the kind of respect that he saw back at the city where people would follow you around blindly and agree with everything you say, but the one that said that you were worthy, earning pats on the shoulders, having your head posted on a wanted board with your bountyraising and others clanking their heavy mugs with yours as a sign of brotherhood. Not that he despised the life he had, but the boy envied them.

Out of the corner of his eyes, something incredible caught his interest. It was a hume, a beautiful one at that. She was wearing a flamboyant red dress and walking casually alongside the stream of drooling pirates around. He could tell that she was older than him by a few years, but she didn't yet reach twenty. Unable to resist his male impulse (he was, after all, born with _that_ between his legs so either his taste has changed or he be out of his blasted mind to not notice those), the boy stared directly at her voluptuous form, starting from her big bust to her well-rounded arse. When he managed to trail his eyes back to her face, he noticed that she was staring right at him.

Was it him, or did the temperature raised by a few degrees?

However, unlike the girls at the Akademy who were looking at him with adoration, this 'woman' was looking at him as if she was contemplating a wall. Her eyes on him didn't even last long before she settled them on something else.

Then she was gone and the magick of the moment along with it.

Before he even had the time to run out to look for her, his father tapped on his shoulder to let him know that they were leaving. The item in question hadn't arrived yet.

That meant that he could come here again to look for her.

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In the following weeks, Cidwould often send his son to Balfonheim to meet his marketer (the item must be quite important for his father to send him on constant errand, not that he minded though) while warning him to keep his identity concealed (were he to be kidnapped and returned for a ransom, the boy can't even imagine the ruin it would bring to his parents), and in secret he would look for the lady in the crowd and after seeing her he would discreetly follow her with his gaze before leaving, satisfied.

From the few observations he had, he learned three things about her: for one, her taste in clothing comes close to the _Vieras_, (if the two ever came across…); two, she was the type that caused uproar when entering a lieu without even knowing it. She wasn't the giddy type, being rather reclusive (a big oxymora, were he to look at her choice of garment that begged attention) but knew how to drive a man crazy when she felt like it (an evil temptress under control, he thought); and third, her standards were very high. Were he to try and claim her, he would have to rise above the rest of the men who followed her. He would have to become prestigious, prodigal. Have light shed on him instead of on others. _Steal_ the spotlight from the others. In other words, be the _leading man_ of the play.

On the day he finally brought back the item his father was waiting for, a Skystone, Cidolfus stayed late at his workplace and did so for the following days. His wife, who sometimes stayed up to wait for him, grew worried. Her son shrugged it off; his father often became enraptured by the new toys that he acquired (though this one was a stone…he couldn't even imagine the fun in it).

A few weeks later, his father announced that he was to leave for a few days, maybe even for weeks. Seeing her husband in a joyful state, his wife sighed in relief and wished him the best. She had thought that something was wrong, but her husband seemed fine. Cidolfus patted his son on the shoulder, apologizing in advance for missing his upcoming sixteenth birthday. His mind still revolving around his times in Balfonheim, his son nodded his head absentmindedly. Before leaving, Cid promised him that he would build an airship exclusively for his son. Without further ado, Cidolfus Demen Bunansa left his family, to journey to _Jagd Difohr_.

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With the father gone, it was the good son's duty to take care of his mother. But he was no good son, and pity that he was still young and craved excitement. He too, grew apart from his mother, instead spending his time loitering in the pirate's den.

Alone, she wept in silence, knowing far too well that she could not stop them both. Though she wanted to at the least keep her son, she saw that his eyes shined like never before when he tells her of his stories in Balfonheim; the same glint her husband has when she came numerous times to visit him at work. Whenever her son came back from his trip, she would keep smiling for his sake.

Eventually, her health falters until she was no more. Viola Cian Dante died with no male presence next to her deathbed, wanting to protect what she had worked so hard to preserve; their smile. Leaving them mourning over her would've betrayedthat.

Only her son and a few of her close friends were present at her funeral.

He remembered staying under the pouring rain for hours, refusing to move away from his mother. It wasn't until later, when he collapsed, were the servants able to carry him back.

Then time passed, and the boy almost reached seventeen when Cid did finally return. The man immediately locked himself in his room and didn't come out. Sometimes, at night, his son would hear him talk alone. He would often surprise his old man while he was talking and gesturing his hands around, as if he was in a deep conversation with someone while no one was next to him.

_History is built by our hands!_

How many times did he hear his father say that aloud? alone?

Thinking that perhaps his father's sorrow led him to this sorry state, the son resolved in stopping his selfishness and ceased his visit to Balfonheim. He then swore to try to make his sole parent happy by continuing his scholarship and perhaps also become an airship builder like him. However, Cid had other plans for him.

He was made a Judgeby his father. He partook of his old man's work, which developed without the Senate's knowledge, _horrors _that he'd rather forget.

How many people died because of the things he thought up?

He remembers walking in his armor, among the fire of yet another burned down village rumored to shelter insurgents.

He remembers blackened hands reaching out toward the sky and eyes completely devoid of life.

He remembers holding one of them in his gloved hands and pulling off its remnants, rubbing the soot off before pocketing them secretly: Rings and bracelets that shone brightly in many colors… like the life that once surrounded them… ended by his hands.

_What have I done?_

His father was jubilant; some even say he was enjoying his work more than anything. It lead to more madness, more late night work about something called the 'Nethicite'and he started making battleships and weapons for the Empire.

_It didn't last long. I ran. I left the Judges…and him. I ran away. The Nethicite twisted him and he stopped being himself. I couldn't stand seeing him like that, a slave to the Stone. So I ran. I left, thinking that I had become free. Free at last._

With a nameless Archadian airship still in its experimental stage, he fled to Balfonheim, where he felt that the constant moving would soon drown him, and that the world would forgethim, forget that Cidolfus Deme Bunansa had a coward son. He gave up his name, his heritage…and his father. His mother however, never left his mind.

And so rose _Balthier _the Sky Pirate.

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Sometimes, he sees her in his dreams, her warm hand stroking his forehead and saying how proud she is, but her eyes were always somewhat sad. From this loss, he learns that women, no matter how strong they looked or pretended to be, are fragile creatures that came and went like the wind and a man wasn't really a man unless he knows how to take care of one and always make her feel cherished and happy. His conscience dares believe that at a certain point of his childhood, he really was a man, for he made the woman he loved happy but that had only lasted so long until another woman came into his life and it was suddenly too much for him, for the young him. Women craved attention and he had a feeling that if he didn't give them enough, they would wither, like his mother (but another one of his personal lesson says that giving them too much attention would also give him equal trouble. He quickly developed a motto of making women happy enough to give him a good time and not enough to weep for his departure. Love, but no ties.)

Surely, had he been manlier, he would've been able to manage to make all the women he frequented feel happy, but even he, with a silver tongue and charms of the Devil, leaves a few broken heart here and there. Women were by far the most complex creatures he came across with. Even after years of experience, he admits that sometimes their nature would elude him, and he would find himself remembering his old self in a cradle; the moment he opened his eyes for the first time to see the face of Viola and reliving those blissful years where he discovers all over again who his mother was.

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Chapter I, Mother, End


	2. Elza

_For she was the fire that consumed his youth and from his ashes he rose like the phoenix to become a man_

-Memoirs of Odin the Great, as written in his biography by Casius-

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It is a most firm belief among Sky pirates that each man has at least experienced once the thrill of feeling grandiose. When one felt that he could do absolutely anything and could get away with it. People would look up to them, worship them like heroes and put them on a pedestal that they hardly even deserve before their eventual fall where another will rise to take their places. Years later, when people would later speak of them, it would be like spreading the tales of an old friend whose name and face has been forgotten.

But being Balthier, he thought differently.

He _was _going to be the greatest pirate, people _were _going to put him on a pedestal that _he _merited and he would _stay_there for many years to come until he decides to give the mantle to another he deemed worthy. His feats would remain everlasting and his name eternal.

_Simple_ really.

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After his arrival to Balfonheim, it didn't take long for his long subdued dream of becoming sky pirate to emerge. He stripped himself of all his jewelries, chops and every little thing that would make his former social status known. He would start from the beginning.

Though it may be hard and the road may be long, he won't give up. He was, after all, his mother's son.

Fortune started with gambling and went up with all the little jobs he could find. With every expedition he made to the unknown, his visions got broader and he got wiser. Actions could not be categorized as good or bad, for they were only choices people made to step closer to their ultimate dreams and what else could be more saint than risking everything for them?

Only with those thoughts in mind did he not feel the shame after his first plundering. Instead came pride and money.

In less than a year, the name Balthier was on everyone's lips in Balfonheim.

He was known as being suave, charming and a perfect gentleman among the ladies. Cunning, playboy and boastful among his enemies.

He was like the wind that could not be caught with a net, sliced with a sword, held in loving arms or swayed with words. He was open to every one, but no one had the feeling that they were his friends. He was unpredictable in every single way.

When people thought that he would lend them a hand in generosity, he brushes them off. In reverse, he would reach out in a situation that would seem impossible to salvage.

When asked about his past, he would charm his way through and flip the conversation so that they would be the one pouring their heartbreaking past to him.

When they think that he was about to finish them off, he mockingly pats their cheek and tells them that it was a good brawl and to come back in another million years.

He was straightforward and his voice sometimes dripped with sarcasm or mockery. He was suave with every one of the female species, yet expressed interest in only very few (which he was picky about for he had no intention of wooing a female seeq, bangaa or moogle to bed so he was careful around them)

He hated complicated matters and would bail out even before it gets too rough for his taste.

His comrades never knew where to find him. He was sometimes at the Whitecap in the late night, out in the street at dawn to count the stars before they faded, aboard his airship (which was difficult to find since he just upgraded it with a cloaking device) or sometimes, he would come back into the port from another adventure and people didn't even know that he had even gone out of Balfonheim.

He had a way to put wrongs to right (while getting compensation from it of course, he wasn't the one who'd do things for free) and always made sure to have a higher leverage in deals.

So grand was his name that it was hard to find someone in Balfonheim who didn't know his name.

And then he got to meet her.

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It happened on a random occurrence. He had come back to Balfonheim for a short visit before leaving again the next day. It was night when he entered the Whitecap for a quick drink. The owner was running short of Lumina crystal so the place was fairly dark and no one recognized him…yet. Not that he minded though, he was in the mood for some _Balthier_ time. In the darkness, she made her way to him and sat on an adjacent seat. He didn't even need to lift his eyes from his glass to know who it was; her scent, that his olfactory sense memorized, had preceded her.

Maintaining his fine composure, he started the conversation.

At first, nothing happened; nothing but a pair of normal strangers swapping stories and remarks on the weather. They flung flatteries at each other, one after another, trying to find out more about the other while masking the intention with frivolities. She says that she saw him numerous times before, when he was just a boy and kept looking at her. She liked his innocent eyes back then. He smirked and says that he is different now. He was better.

He calls her beautiful, temptress, exotic and she returns the compliments with pirate, flower-tongue and the devil.

The little game continued till late at night and when he had finally run out of words, when he finally turned to look at her, he knew that he had amused her.

In the following morning, his airship stayed alone in the aerodrome. He did not come for it at night either. And the next night too. And the next. And the next.

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Her name was Elza and she was two years older than him. With her at his side, the bounty on his head skyrocketed (probably from the numerous suitors who had long kept an eye on her exotic beauty). The strikingly beautiful couple were noticed wherever they went and invited to numerous festivities. Both had a good reputation as pirates and when plundering together, they brought back even more treasure than he'd had done alone. She was all that a leading man such as himself would have as a leading lady at his side.

Everything was going along so perfectly, and could have go on for a very long time but unfortunately, he was ambitious and from it, ego and arrogance began to surface.

The mountain of treasure they acquired was nothing compared to the exhilarating adrenaline rushing in his veins when he was making an escape with the booty. The finest wine in his glass did not even quench his thirst of even more daring adventures. The looks on his rivals' faces were only worth it after he poured his last grain of salt on their wound, subject of their defeat.

As for her, he always kept her close, showing her off up high and mighty like a display to arouse jealousy. She was like an object. She was like another one of his treasure.

Drunk of the attention, Balthier sought more ways to raise his bounty. He journeyed further and longer, until he no longer sees her. Until he is no longer himself. Until finally, someday, some old rich aristocrat he was robbing with a poor vision mistakes him for Cidolfus Demen Bunansa. From the blurred face, the mannerism and choice of words, he swears that he is exactly like Doctor Cid.

Then Balthier knew that he had gone too far, too deep.

He dropped everything he had in the middle of the raid and flew back to Balfonheim.

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He found her in their shared room in the arms of another man. She didn't even look surprised and watched him with the indifference she had toward him on the first day he saw her. The gap between them he thought he had closed reappeared in that one instant.

He was turning into a man, a goal that he had aimed to succeed, but the result was a man who had wanted too much and done much wrong to achieve it.

An all too familiar sickening voice at the back of his head congratulated him for his achievement and laughed. Spiteful words, replaying in his mind like a broken record…

_And so house Bunansa lives on…anan, anan._

Once again, he ran.

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There are times when he thinks that he might have been able love her in all honesty. From this loss, he admits that he had fallen out of the dream he had so carefully elaborated secretly late at night so many years ago, away from his parents' notice. He has failed to cherish what was right beside him only to realize its importance once he lost it.

He thought that having your name and picture posted on the board, pulling off a trick that no one thought possible, gaining gils through stealing and having a great woman next to you was something that could make him feel like a man, but he was wrong.

Only when he realized his mistake did he felt like he had grown up.

As for Elza, as years passed fleetingly, so did the exoticism that first led him to be enamored by her. She was still beautiful, but it didn't quite reach his eyes anymore. T'is only a guess, but it crosses his mind when he looks at her with his now clear eyes, that perhaps she was waiting for the young Ffamran to come back and admire her again in secret.

Sometimes, when he would be in front of a mirror, buttoning up his shirt as he was about to make an escape from another night-companion, he would see her porcelain arms wrap themselves around him from behind, and she would appear with his reflection, pressing her naked body firmly to his back. She would breathe warmly on his cheek and murmur incomprehensible words. When he would turn around to say something, anything, she disappears. Countless times, when in unpleasant company, he would think of running again, this time to her and wonder if he had been more humble, if he had understood humility sooner, would've things turned out for the better? Then, chuckling ruefully, he dismisses those thoughts to the back of his mind, wishing to awaken them no more.

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Chapter II, Elza, End


	3. The Strahl

_Under his hands, she took form and was every inch his ultimate creation_

-Memoirs of Cidolfus Demen Bunansa, written while he worked on the Bahamut-

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The first thing that defines a Sky Pirate is, of course, his airship.

Every five year, at a certain date, Pirates from all over Ivalice would gather together to hold an event to show off their airships.

Built to their image, reflecting their strength and knowledge through scraps of metals cleverly pieced together to form the ultimate creation. Some pirates favor strength, thus attaching heavy weapons onto it. Others prefer speed and malleability, making their airship small and equipping them with light engines. Some others are more aesthetic, spending hours with painting to depict the image of the rising sun or some other masterpiece on all sides of their flying beauty.

The event was held for three days and three nights and the vote had to be unanimous.

It was every pirate's dream to let their airship be looked upon with envy and praised by all other comrades, were it to be for only a fleeting moment…

_._

The first time he saw her, it was like the situation where a damsel in distress was about to get killed until a handsome young man comes and swoop her out of danger. Scheduled for scrapping due to dissatisfaction on the part of a pompous Imperial, the experimental airship, whose previous name he had forgotten due to its absolutely dreadful ringing that could never fit his role as the leading man, was liberated thanks to him while he was still a Judge.

She was naught but pieces of metal and wirings brought together, but the very fact that she was a disappointment hit a chord inside of his own metal shell. His authority was close to absolute and the foolish YPAs had no choice but relent to his request to acquire her. His times spent with her were short, for his duties as Judge consumed most of his schedule, but every visit granted him the chance to forget the horrors of his responsibility and he would engage himself in late night work to modify her to his likings: She will be quiet, as to not remind him the engines of the big warships. Her weaponry will be minimal, so that for the times he was in her, he would know that he held no power over other lives. But most of all, he wanted her to be beautiful and functional. He wanted to convince himself that with his hands, he was able to create… not just destroy.

After his departure from Archades, every gil he earned were spent on buying new parts for her. The mechanics were carefully chosen and he never allowed anyone other than them or himself to repair her.

Through thick and thin, she had followed him in numerous adventure, suffered injuries as much as he did and was everyday his center of attention (until came Elza, but that is another story…)

While his partner in crimes would camp out together to swap stories and lies, he would stay with her, sleeping peacefully in the cockpit for only the humming of her engines could lull him to the land of dreams. Although he had a small bed at the rear of the ship, he preferred to settle on the chair at the front, to let the stars be the last thing he sees before he closed his eyes. He could only sleep onboard because it was the only place where he felt safe.

Numerous times, he dreamt of seeing the disappointment in his father and the YPA's eyes. He would wake up violently and fervently spend the rest of the night to make changes to the airship, repeating to himself that she was flawless and no other can compare to her. He will show her off at the gathering and all eyes will settle upon her.

Some fellows say that his care for his airship surpassed his love for women and perhaps that it was true, but he didn't care. She was to be perfect, impossible to disappoint anyone.

It was like an obsession and Balthier was happily drowning in it.

He never would've thought that every hour spent with her brought him closer to being like his father.

_._

When he decided to present her to some comrades, someone jokingly compared him to the renowned madman, Doctor Cid. Both men showed an infinite care toward their creation that was comparable to madness. The innocent remark resulted in a huge brawl which sent the poor man to a health institution for numerous months and on the same night, Balthier's airship suffered numerous damage from her own maker.

With his own hands, he ripped her veins and scarred her exterior with the same tools he used to improve her.

By the time he regained his sense, she wasn't presentable for the contest that took place the next day, so he withdrew his name from the list and decided to not go near her for the next several days.

One day at a tavern, thinking that he must separate himself from her to save his soul, he brought her up in a deal.

A fellow pirate expressed his interest in her and asked to go and see her.

_A fine ship, she is. Gone through many things too. I see why your escapades were all successful. _

The chubby customer walked around her while trailing his hand on her surface fondly in such way that would resemble a caress from a lover. At the sight of it, Balthier felt a pang of… jealousy?

When the man was led inside, he immediately sat down on the pilot's chair to think for a moment while chewing the tip of his thumb. His eyes took in everything and he squealed happily.

Balthier felt disgusted.

Seventy-five hundred gils. That was the offer. Balthier frowned.

The chubby man insisted that he was being far too generous. She was after all, bruised all over.

_I'm probably the only one who wants her. You won't get a better deal than that!_

Seventy-five hundred gils.

Balthier contemplated around. As his hand hovered over the all too familiar controls, the engine was suddenly brought to life. Was it the wind or was she calling out to him?

Seventy-five hundred gils for all the nights spent aboard her.

Seventy-five hundred gils for all the times she made him feel like they were the same, and that together they would prove that they were something.

Seventy-five hundred gils for all the time he felt the pride of having made a successful escape with her.

What was he _thinking_?

No amount of gils could take away his memories of her. She has always been faithful to him, never failing him in an adventure and never responding when he took out his anger on her. Unlike Cid's creations, she never took away innocent lives.

She wasn't made by a Bunansa, but by a Sky Pirate.

For every part he had changed anew, he assured himself that she was different from the ones built under his father's hands.

For every weapon he had equipped her with, he told himself that she would never have to use them for ill purpose.

Without further negotiations, he booted the man out of the ship and called upon his mechanics for major repairing.

And as he sat down to check the engine, he thought of a name, a name inspired by his mother.

_It was bird who followed the great Warheit to battle and when he was fading on his deathbed, she refused to eat so that she might continue to serve him in the afterlife. Ffamran… someday, you will find a similar bird._

He pronounced it slowly and it rolled off his tongue nicely. Smirking, he murmured her name and promises of many more adventure.

And together, they shall one day face their makers.

_._

_._

She was a ship that was constructed to the very image of his soul.

She complied with his every order and was adjustable to his ever changing tastes. Only while flying her, could he relive the feeling of detachment for all his worries and feel closer to the freedom he desperately seeks.

The Sky Pirates airship event became a trivial thing to him for he would loathe himself if another pirate was to display the same adoration as him toward his airship. He had become quite possessive and would allow no other to be her partner. (It would also mean fewer thieves to worry about. The event was, after all, held among pirates.)

Every time he settles down on his chair and prepares to lift off, hearing the engine warm up and the cogs turning in perfect synchronism like a slow music, Balthier knows that this one 'woman' would never betray him.

Her name was the _Strahl_ and she was every inch his ultimate creation.

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Chapter III, The Strahl, End


	4. Fran

_Their eyes see through the deception, their ears hear the lies and their lips mutters words of wisdom…They have watched the battle of men from the Woods through many years and will continue for the many more to come…_

_They are the silent watchers of Ivalice…_

-Memoirs of the Vieras, written by Jhor the Hermit-

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_._

What is the secret to immortality? Does it reside in the Mist? Flow in the Esper's blood? What could make one live so long? For ages, Alchemists, Magick practionners and summoners have debated upon this question and tried to seek out the answer desperately.

_Mother, why are all these people obsessed with Eternity?_

_Perhaps…perhaps they are afraid to be forgotten…_

For Balthier, "living" wasn't restricted to the preservation of the body and soul. No, as long as he is remembered, he remains _alive_…

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In his youth, there was a man in Balfonheim whom Balthier befriended. This old man was an authentic Pirate of the Sea and had a gift in storytelling. His descriptions of his adventures were always rich and lured many boys around him everyday.

_Old man, tell us about your adventures in Bervenia!_

_That story again m'boy? Why not? At that time, my partner and m'self were-…_

Among the many pair of eyes that watched him with fascination, only Ffamran's remained stoic. Little did the old man know that it wasn't his story that interested the young boy, but that of his partner.

_Your partner must've been really good, old man. After all, you're still alive and healthy…well, maybe except your amputated arm, wooden leg and chopped left thumb._

The others turned to look at him, annoyed that he just had to interrupt the story.

_Never mind my partner and listen to me a bit will you? Now where was I… Oh yes! It was me against a hundred of those monsters, and-_

Humes are very vain; they tend to shed light on themselves even if it meant neglecting the very ones who watched their back throughout many perilous adventures.

_At that time, he- no 'I'...yes…it was me all alone…_

It was clear that this old man was no different. It disgusted Ffamran.

_People praised me for it m'boy. I was a hero._

The other boys cheered and whistled at the elder, who was awkwardly taking a deep bow.

Foolish old man.

_._

As Balthier the Sky Pirate, he was known as being very picky about his partner. If he were to entrust his back to someone during a mission, that person had to be exceptionally good…and a woman. The Strahl certainly didn't need to handle two male egos on board.

Finding a lady wasn't the problem: women threw themselves at his feet as soon as he walked through the front doors. Though he had 'tried' them all, none of them were as efficient as he had hoped (though they were all enjoyable).

_As efficient as her, _he thought.

A day hasn't gone by since his separation with Elza, and his old rivals made damn sure to remind him about it every time they crossed paths.

_That Elza, a fine woman now ain't she?_

_A real loss, isn't it mate?_

_Not running off all flashy today, Balthier?_

Everyone has a certain 'Elza' in their lives; someone whom they'd just wish to banish to the back of their minds and hopefully, find another person to create better memories with. But in his case, his Elza was too darn _good_ that every one else just seemed like a pale imitation of her.

He would hear her laugh coming from an unknown brunette clinging to his right arm and feel the way her hips sway coming from the lady clinging to his left. The way that waitress pursed her lips reminded him of hers and soon the million of other many other details started to have effect on him.

Balthier sighed.

As much as he hated to admit it, a dent had embedded itself deep in his pride. Although he spent a great time reprimanding himself for having an excess of it, he nevertheless had a minimum of self-esteem and couldn't allow himself to let this open wound slow him down forever. Thus he sought for a new leading lady…

Unfortunately, it was easier said then done.

_._

Balthier took another swig from his glass and set it down heavily. As he had expected, none of the candidates was up to his expectations. Perhaps it would be best if he and his team of moogles were the only occupant of the Strahl.

_Heart problems, lad?_

Balthier looked up from his drink and tilted his head on a side, smirking all the while.

_Why yes, I've been known to steal quite a few lately and I'm afraid that it has gone out of control._

The barman laughed.

_It's good being young, eh? But don't get too ahead of yourself boy. Not all women go for looks._

_Oh? Then I have yet to meet her._

The plump man shot a quick look outside the window.

_Aye, I've no doubt that you'll meet one someday._

Suddenly, the doors opened and everyone turned their heads toward the newly arrived.

_Ah, speaking of heartbreakers…_

Long white hair, tall dark figure, long legs and wide eyes… creatures who rarely left their sanctum, somewhere deep in the Woods…

The barman chuckled and handed him back his refilled mug.

_Not many Viera where you come from, Pirate?_

A Viera. How interesting.

Oh, the stories that people would tell …

_._

She kept her head levelled, forcing him to look up in order to meet her eyes, and her bow was kept within arm's reach, ready for use. She looked calm and collected, but he knew that he was a heartbeat away from a possible bar brawl, were he to wrongly weight his next words and insult her (and maybe keeping his eyes from wandering downward was a good idea also).

He cleared his throat and straightened his back. He never spoke to a Viera before and his first words came out rushed, but the initial uneasiness quickly dissolved as his proposition took form and spread through careful chosen smooth words. As he went through certain points and conditions, he noticed that her feature didn't change so much during the conversation and she seemed to be blandly ignoring whatever he was saying. Her serious gaze was focused on his face, mainly his eyes.

The uneasiness slowly crept back, but he tried to hammer them down with other thoughts and averted his eyes from her piercing ones to keep them from digging too much into his soul.

His voice had somehow stopped midway without him even noticing.

The Viera suddenly let out a small sigh and slightly tilted her head on a side, as if relieved that all the useless chattering was finally over and that they could get on with other more serious things to discuss.

_You too, have cast away both name and home?_

His composure faltered by a few millimeters, but he quickly drew back his usual smile and politely inquired the meaning of her question, though he knew only too well.

Her reply was nowhere near what he had expected and hit him like cold water.

_Your eyes…betray your heart_

_._

He remembers a time that now seemed so long ago when he had asked his mother how she met Cid. His innocent question made her first smile for the first time in that week, and she took the time to think about the answer.

_Individuals with the same… 'nature' recognize each other…they can't help but reach out to one another because no one else would. Sometimes, such unions grow and deepen to harbor feelings like love, lust, trust, fear, hate…_

_How can those two people know that they're similar? _

_Hmm, how can I say this… It's something that you would only notice at a second glance... something in the eyes, the curve of their smile, the gesture of their hands, the tone of their voice… you discover something underneath those details that unconsciously lures you to them…_

_Oh… then what did Cid had that made you marry him?_

His mother only smiled and the conversation had ended with Cid's presence. He never knew what she was about to say that night… there were many things that he didn't know about his own mother…

_._

Balthier didn't believe in fated encounters, so was this the attraction of two similar 'nature' his mother talked about that had compelled this Viera to try and reach out to him?

In any case, the line was drawn…

.

The first few weeks with Fran went through an unsupportable silence. Though Fran was superb at what she was doing and the spoils kept increasing, Balthier was actually looking forward to the _enjoyable_ part of their partnership. Yet Fran remained passive to his flatteries and just walked away after one of their adventures.

At one time, in order to prevent her from leaving him with a no more than a word of farewell and a promise to attend the next meeting, Balthier called out to her. Fran stopped in her tracks and turned her head back, raising an eyebrow.

The content of a leaflet (which was only a good read for bored crazy old men, yet he had the excuse of having a surprisingly amount of free time since his work had been flawless these last few days thanks to Fran) he read days ago resurfaced in his mind and Balthier wondered if it was wise to ask her about it.

_Tell me Fran…_

She had turned her whole body towards him now, and waited for this question that was obviously burning at his tongue.

_What's it like to live for eons? Any words to us mere mortals about it? to guide us perhaps? Why, I wish I could live that long myself._

Her face was expressionless for a moment, and he wondered whether she was thinking about an answer or whether she thought that he was joking and considered walking away as usual.

They remained eye-locked for a while and Balthier started to feel nervous. Perhaps he should just turn away, apologise or…

Her answer cut through his thoughts like a knife, her voice and eyes carrying the evidence of those who had lived with the burden of the ages.

_Eternity is too long for me…_

After she walked away, Balthier dropped down to a nearby chair and rubbed the back of his head, confused about her answer while hiding the heat that had crawled up to his face and the stir in his heart. Both reactions couldn't be explained with his logic.

_._

The woman in his arms stirred but didn't show any sign that she was awake. His hands brush through her long black hair, searching for a softness that no Hume hair could ever be. His other hand stroke her skin, and Balthier wondered how _her_ skin would be like. It was almost maddening how he still hasn't touched her yet. That long white mane, inviting lips, long graceful limbs…

As quietly as he could, he detached himself from the bed and dressed himself quickly.

Fran told him that she would be staying at Idem's Inn tonight, so he would seek her out there and…

_Balthier?_

He turned towards his companion and blew a kiss from the door.

_I pray you won't resent me for amusing you only for this night. We part from here. Sweet dreams._

The road to his destination was short and when he entered, the last star had just disappeared behind the veil of the first morning rays.

_A Viera rented a room for the night… which room is she in?_

The tired man behind the counter shot him a disapproving look, which turned to a wide smile when Balthier dropped a bag of gil in front of him.

_Room 4-A5, just around this corner. Do be… discreet._

Balthier didn't even catch his remark as made way to the hallway.

What was he doing here? And would she even let him enter her room at this ungodly hour of the night?

He knocked softly once, then twice.

_Fran?_

A faint sound was heard from the inside and he wasn't certain whether it was an invitation to enter or a refusal. Unsure, he opened the door a little to peak inside before brutally pushing it wide open.

The room was a complete mess. The curtains were ripped apart, the bed sheets were on the floor and many objects had been thrown around.

As for Fran, she was sitting quietly on the bed staring into nothing in particular, probably aware of his sudden presence in the room, but didn't show any sign of acknowledgment.

For a moment, Balthier feared that she had been attacked and that he was too late, but on closer inspection, he realized that the damage was made by none other than the tenant of the room.

Fran continued to ignore him and was now staring at her hands.

Without a word, he made his way to her while avoiding the pieces of broken shards of glass and sat down next to her. The old Balthier would have walked away, judging the situation too melodramatic for his taste… but something about Fran compelled him to stay. He remained silent for a very long time, a thousand things raced through his mind but no words would properly form on his lips.

_I will tell you about myself…_ she started.

He shot her a disconcerting look, but quickly regained his composure when she turned to look at him. By the way she paused for a moment to search for words, it occurred to him that perhaps he would be the first Hume to whom she would confide her hopes, fears and dreams. He had come across many women in this state before, and he knew that if he were to successfully comfort her, then this night would be _very_ _promising_. And to him, it was a sacred and joyous moment.

He had a feeling that after this night, he would be able to do anything.

But even there he was wrong.

.

She hails from Eruyt Village deep within Golmore Jungle, but has decided to throw down their laws in order to wander into the realm of the Humes.

It was then she met her first partner.

_He was sleeping on his parent's grave when I found him. I then took him under my wing. For years I raised him, watched over him, supported him in times of need and protected him. I was a mother when he needed guidance, a lover when he needed warmth, a mentor when he needed teachings, a sheath when he couldn't contain his fury… Yet, it was not enough to save him when old age took him away from me. _

Humes are such fleeting creatures. No matter what she did to help them; heal their wounds, defeat whatever enemies that threatened their existence, make medicine to counter their illnesses… nothing could ever help them stand against old age and when the time came, they all left… having gone through that so many times, she feels so _tired_.

Her eyes were still looking into his before she frowned and then looked elsewhere, acting like she didn't see the glint in his eyes that clearly showed what he wanted… or perhaps didn't took it into serious consideration.

He felt as if the world had turned away from him.

_Sometimes, I feel them… in the night's breeze, silky fabrics, the taste of the wine…_she nodded her head toward the nightstand, indicating the half empty glass.

Balthier's hand, which she was barely aware of, had stopped moving through her long hair.

Damn it…… he just felt…… so small. Who was he trying to kid with golden lines like his, only good to sway a desperate woman for a night then part the next? He was _Balthier_, fool extraordinaire, who thought that the world revolved around him and that he had conquered it, only to feel unworthy of it the next moment. Fran, being frustratingly more calm and mature than him, had probably only told him about herself so that he wouldn't judge her as much as she judged him.

Fool of a pirate.

He didn't know whether his next words were up to the measure, but he knew that they were from his heart.

_Don't worry Fran, because I will also live a very long _long_ time, in fact, so long that I wonder if you will tire yourself of my presence._

She scouted his faces for any traces of mockery, but there was none. His hands reached for each side of her face as he continued with a softer voice.

_You see… I plan on making myself well-known throughout all Ivalice, so that I won't worry about keeping myself alive because people will keep ME alive instead, in their memory. A woman I loved dearly once told me that as long as we are remembered, we remain alive. Think of it as a promise that a part of me will always be with you._

_A mere boy saying to be able to keep up with a Viera? A pleasant lie, that._

_A lie? You wound me Fran. My name and stories WILL be passed on through generations. Consider yourself stuck with the ghost of Balthier the Sky Pirate for the rest of your life. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if half of the next children of Ivalice are named after me. Imagine little Balthiers sprouting here and there, all around you. _

His hands returned to his side and they shared a short laugh before he suddenly quieted down, feeling nervous again…

Fran also fell silent, her eyes twinkling, knowing rather well what was running through his mind.

This woman being a Viera, he had no doubt that she could feel the quickening of his heartbeat and smell the sweat that was seeping out of his pores. Then, without much thought, Balthier leaned forward and kissed her cheek briefly before he pulled back to check for any brutal change in her feature.

When he saw that there weren't any and that he was sure that she wasn't about to slap him, he slowly ventured in capturing her lips… and the burden he tasted on them would never be worth living Eternity…

_._

_._

Countless times, he had wondered why, at that time, Fran had allowed him to brush his lips against hers that night, eons ago. Following his odd logic; Fran had only indulged him in his sudden impulse and the fact that she avoided his numerous confrontations about that night with a nonchalant shrug or a dismissive wave of her hand convinced him of such. And were he to listen to his heart, Fran was thinking of him. He had been, after all, barely a man and had his full life ahead of him, perhaps she didn't wanted to lead him on into a doomed relationship.

Countless times, he had wished to relieve a fraction of that night, when he and Fran had shared something that felt far more intimate than any other thing he had experienced with other women, even Elza. He feels that they are both scarred in a similar way and thus was the only one who could understand him far better than anyone.

Years after plundering, flying, stealing, _living_ with her, Balthier's only regret was that he couldn't, and will never be able to fully understand her. She was like a secret buried too deep in the dirt that he couldn't dig up with his bare hands. He doesn't know if meeting him had been a blessing or an ill omen for her, but he knows that he is glad that he had been there for her in a part of her Eternity and can only hope that her next partner will be able to fill the holes left inside her that he was not able to in this lifetime…that is _if_ he had left any.

_._

_._

Chapter IV, Fran, End


	5. Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca

_She hides in the shadow of her cage, though you have opened the door. She turns away and embraces the world._

~Memoirs of Lady Isley, secluded priestess of Mount Bur-Omisace~

_._

_.  
_

Surrounding the famous Sky Pirate, one question keeps getting brought up.

What did Balthier think of women?

His honest answer was that they all seem to blend in one and another. No one really stood out anymore.

Women (with the exception of very few), were all the same to him. Always reeling him in with a laugh, a bat of the eyelashes, a seductive kiss, and all the basic tricks that just seems to work on him if done right.

He loved women. And he found out that loving little many was less troublesome than loving with a passion just one.

He was the kind of man that was labeled as 'Retainer of none, Chaser of none'.

He spends the night with one and all he remembers the next is an echo of what they had experienced and the taste of wine that accompanied their thrill.

Go along with her, let her drown in the fantasy of the moment and then leave first thing next morning. Women who were able to cope with his attitude were welcome to come to him anytime and those who didn't…well he was quite careful with whom he chooses and always made his intentions clear at the beginning, so he thankfully didn't have to go through anything scandalous.

He respected women too much to even consider handling one improperly, always making sure she felt cherished and important in the heat of the passion.

But as far as the rest goes, he wouldn't be willing to handle the other aspects of her life.

So, one would ask, for whom would Balthier go as far as catch their hand and put on the pedestal that coronated his worth?

Hearing the people's speculation, Balthier only scoffs and gives a tug in his cuffs. With Fran as his partner and the Strahl as his airship, why would he search for such woman? There were treasures that needed to be found and he was his way to the next one, the Goddess' Magicite.

It never crossed his mind that such decision would lead him to encounter the unlikeliest person he would find in the Garamsythe Waterway.

_._

The first time he met her, something about this _Amalia_ intrigued him. Was it the subtle grace in her walk, her head held up and high and proud? The strength in her gaze? The air around her that pointed out that she was obviously from noble blood?

He couldn't put a finger on it, but there was one thing he knew for sure.

She was trouble.

Following his gutsy feeling, he decided to ditch this one as soon as they will get out of this blasted waterway, for he feared that the worst was yet to come…

Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca

Raminas' first daughter, rumored to have committed suicide following the defeat of Dalmasca.

The Marquis had fooled them all, for here she was, alive.

And very beautiful, though her gaze has hardened over time as there was an initial suspicion in her eyes that kept her apart from them all the time.

He knows that life can be hard for someone who has just lost everything, yet did not pity her really, for he thought that the years she lived away from royalty had made her strong and independent.

_Too_ independent perhaps.

As he travels all over Ivalice with her; raiding tombs, running through the mines, meet annoying princes and old rivals, get lost in mist-filled forests, all the while trying to keep his clothes clean; he sometimes wished that she would actually ask their help, but her status would not allow her to do more than to fight alongside them. She was grateful for their presence and demonstrated her gratitude in full, but the weight of her kingdom was another matter and she would not share that burden with anyone.

Had it been just that, Balthier wouldn't have pried any further. A woman such as herself didn't need a Sky Pirate to look out for her, but when the _Nethicite_ was involved, he feared for them both.

Surely, it wasn't conceited of him to think that no one but him among them could help her.

She _needed_ him… and perhaps, he needed her too.

He glanced down at the ring he took from her as payment and it seemed to him that it twinkled in approval.

_._

His first approach happened near the waters of the Phon Coast. As graceful as she might be, Ashe had almost tripped over and Balthier smirked as he caught her hand.

Instead of a smile or a simple 'thank you', she turned away.

He scowled.

Years away from the castle had not only taken away her title, but her manners as well.

_Why the Capital?_

She stopped for a moment. Everyone in the group knew of her reasons and Balthier was aware that he had asked the obvious, but he needed to talk to her.

_The Nethicite. I must destroy it._

He scoffed. It sounded as if she repeated it a thousand times in her head, rehearsing for the day someone would doubt her intentions and ask her about it.

_Are you sure? You don't want it for yourself? Use its power to restore Dalmasca, something like that?_

Her shoulder stiffened.

_The best intentions invite the worst kind of trouble._

Women's actions were ruled by emotions, one could say that it is their best trait. But being Balthier, he knew better than to let a woman act on her emotions…especially if the woman in particular held the fate of a kingdom in the palm of her hand. Not that he had any sentimental ties to Dalmasca, but when he thinks of all the gorgeous women he has yet to meet there…

_Lusting for ever greater power, blinded by the Nethicite… Is that how you see me?_

He could hear her voice crack a bit at the end. By now she had formed fists with her hands, undoubtedly using them to bash his face in her mind. She finally turned to face him, her face in a mix of anger and disbelief. She looked so lost and insecure. It was as if she had also doubted herself and was waiting for one of them to go upfront and tell her that she was on the right path. Though she would never admit it.

His gaze softened.

_That does sound like someone I know._

She glanced towards him in curiosity. Balthier left her side to approach the water, dying to rid himself of the hot sand that managed to enter his shoes and she felt obliged to follow him.

Talking to her was surprisingly easier than he thought.

It wasn't like talking to Vaan who looked up to him, waiting eagerly to hear his exploits about airships and treasures. And when talking to Fran, he sometimes feels that if any conversation he started was not about their next scheme, then she would relax and listen to him like listening to a child (by Viera standard) babbling. If he were to take it further and strike a conversation with Basch, who sometimes give him a not so subtle look of disapproval for his line of 'work', one would say that the soldier is expecting him to run away to the sky with all their gils like a typical thief do when things get too nasty, though he would never voice it out loud. As for Ashe, she expects nothing from him. She looks at him and sees a blank canvas, a stranger. Aside from a few remarks about his profession, she has shown no real interest in discovering what kind of person he was. And for that, she can see him for who he is, not how she wants him to be.

_Don't follow in his footsteps. I ran away. I couldn't stand seeing him like that, a slave to the stone. So I ran. Free at last. Funny I went for the Dusk Shard. How could I have known that it was Nethicite?_

The corner of his mouth turned upward.

_And then, of course I met you_

He paused and glanced towards her. Ashe slowly nodded, prodding him to go on.

_All that running, and I got nowhere. It's time to end this, cut my ties to the past…_

He held his breath, suddenly feeling bare and defenseless in her presence. What she was about to say, he could not anticipate.

_It's hard to leave the past behind… I know._

It was neither a retort nor a stingy comment, but rather the wistful remark of any young women who had been spending too many nights dreaming of her husband, her friends and family.

As she stared down at her ring, her mind off in her own world, he reached in one of the side pockets. The smooth surface of Rasler's ring came in contact with his calloused fingers and without thinking, he tried it on. It fit perfectly.

_The choice is yours to make. But don't give your heart to a stone. You're stronger than that princess._

Balthier shot her one of his charming smiles and saw that she was finally returning to her old usual composed self.

Were she to remain firm and strong-willed against whatever twisted power that ruled over Nethicite, then he has nothing to fear anymore.

As the burning sand started to affect his exposed heels, he decided to step into the water. Balthier then turned back towards her and tentatively held out a hand in invitation.

She looked at it and for a moment he thought she was inspecting it for any trace of dirt, but she surprised him by accepting it in order to stabilize herself as she took off her boots.

When her toes dipped into the water, the coldness surprised her and a pleasant laugh escaped her lips.

She then noticed that he was still holding her hand and she raised an eyebrow but all Balthier did was smirk.

_You are quite something Ashe. Unlike any women I've ever met. Though princesses are not on my usual list, perhaps I should take a chance and get to know you better?_ he winked.

She widened her eyes.

Though faint, he swore that he saw a faint blush on her cheeks. By Ivalice! This woman never had someone hit on her so plainly it seems. And she was doing all she could to cover it up. It was all too amusing.

Her ice queen composure quickly came back and she frowned at him.

_Of course, what would a Sky Pirate know of princesses? If you are seeking amusement, better look somewhere else for you would find that this one led a rather disappointing life, wasted on aristocracy and extravagant parties as you Sky Pirates would say. _

_Oh, I'm fairly certain that I will be surprised. Perhaps you will too._

Ashelia opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her cheeks were clearly starting to turn to a shade of pink.

_I demand that you let go of my hand, Pirate_

A last ditched effort from her, but he did let go nonetheless.

_As you wish, Princess_

As silence filled between them, Balthier focused on the horizon, his thoughts returned on more serious matters and on the preparations for the upcoming trials that awaited them.

Yes…he would need to teach Vaan how to fly the Strahl…

_._

Balfonheim… How long has it been since he had been here.

Following his first encounter with Cid after so many years, his coming to Balfonheim seemed almost like a mean prank pulled by the Princess unintentionally. Too many events of his past have been thrown on his path lately and he felt that if another were to show up, he might feel too close to being Ffamran and less Balthier, something he was not looking forward to…

When he saw Elza's voluptuous form come greet the group (or rather Reddas) at their arrival, he felt as if the Gods or Fates or whatever that was doing their best to ruin his life has finally catch up to him and delivered a swift kick to the back of his head.

He remained indifferent in front of the group but after they dispersed to attend to their own personal affairs, she approached and invited him over to the Whitecap.

_Ignoring me? How cruel, even for you, Balthier._

His drew a charming smile, yet leaned away from her.

_It's good to see you again, Elza. Though this is quite a bad timing as we are headed off to Giruvegan._

_It's not often that I see you this restless Balthier…unless it concerns Cid._

The Sky Pirate stiffened, and no words were needed for her to understand.

_Go, then. But next time around, please come see me. There are also matters between us that need to lay to rest. _

_._

Their coming to the city of Giruvegan had been easy…too easy. Cid was nowhere in sight, which was odd. He was not waiting for them at the gate, nor setting up any traps.

_Perhaps he's already hiding somewhere, waiting for us? _

Balthier shook his head. Had Cid been there, he would've known. He always knew.

The others sighed and discussed about a plan while his attention was turned toward the entrance.

Six years ago, Cid stood here in the same spot, looking towards the city that inspired both fascination and terror. Will his fate turn out to be the same as Cid's once he enters that twisted place?

There was no time for him to ponder about it as Ashe had already started to move in.

The princess had a knack in making him do the things he wanted to avoid. And going in a Mist infatuated city with no plans at all was one of them. He sighed and gave a last tug to both of his cuffs before joining the group that had already started to follow her.

After Ashe's encounter with the Occurias, as the purpose of their journey to Giruvegan finally lay bare at their feet, Balthier had to use all his strength to not smack himself in the forehead for not realizing it sooner.

Cid laid out the bait, and they bit, exactly like how the Doctor predicted they would. Heck, he probably even knew that Balthier, _hot blooded _Balthier would haste them in order to get ahead of him at any cost. But it was all part of his plan. Cid and his _damn_ plan.

It was a big hit on his end.

Balthier groaned inwardly, but his frustration suddenly vanished when he looked over at Ashe who was frowning. Knowing her, she was probably being hard towards herself for making the same mistake and the addition of thousands of lives on her shoulders added a lot more stress. Yet she would not yield. Ashe would yield at nothing.

'_Just you wait, Cid, I won't let your ambitions grow too wild this time' _he promised.

Their next encounter was nearing, he could feel it…

_._

_Ffamran_

How long has it been since he last heard Cid call him like that? Echoes of his father calling him such has stopped resonating in his head a long time ago and now, hearing his name once more seemed so distant and fake.

With the death of Cidolfus, House Bunansa has finally fallen.

How pathetic is it that while Balthier wasn't there on his mother's final moments, his presence at his father's, whom he had avoided for years, had been unavoidable.

_Was there no other way?_

_Spend your pity elsewhere. If you are so set on running, hadn't you best be off? Fool of a pirate…_

Cid played his role well onto the end, leaving Balthier the same way he did 6 years. Back then, an indescribable emptiness had formed inside and around him, yet this time he wasn't alone.

He had Fran.

And now he was holding her very dearly, very carefully. She looked up to him, her face streaked with pain yet concern over him for Cid's death was the more apparent on her feature.

_Hadn't you best be off? That's what a sky pirate does. You fly, don't you?_

Why was it, that at that moment, Fran's face was looked so much like his late mother's?

_._

It reminded him of a time when he had been around nine years old, coming back from the Akademy covered with dirt and bruises. His mother knelt down in front of him and asked what had happened. He said that he fought a bully in class.

_Oh? And what happened? You lost?_

'_course not! His friends had to carry him after I was through with him!_

She reached for a clean towel and started wiping his face. Noticing his glassy eyes. She hugged him tightly.

_It hurts, doesn't it? Fighting another is sometime a double-edge sword. The hand that hits the other also gets hurt. There is no satisfaction in handling conflicts with fists, Ffamran. Don't cry…_

The boy closed his eyes tightly, refusing to let even a tear drop.

_I-I'm not crying!_

Viola pulled back and held his face closely.

_It's alright to admit that it hurts, Ffamran. Not necessarily with words, and when you find that person who is of similar nature to you, he or she will feel it before you even know it and reach out to you. _

_It __**doesn't**__ hurt!_ he said stubbornly.

She tapped his nose

_Fine then, have it your way. Let's get you cleaned up before your father gets home._

But before she could head to the sink, Ffamran's little hand had clutched the end of her dress, and big glassy drops dripped down his cheeks.

Viola picked him up and kissed each side of his face.

_Since you know this, it means that you have a really big heart. And know that even when I'm gone, there will always be someone there for you to support you when you shed your grief for another. And hopefully, you will want to keep that person closer to you and find it hard to let go. _

_._

Shoutings and falling debris broke him out of his short reminiscence and Balthier firmly held onto Fran's that rested on his face.

He hadn't been able to do the same to his mother as much as he would have wanted, to cling on to her to share his grief, but this time he wasn't going to let go. He would not let anything ill happen to her, not while he was around. After his mother, Fran had been his solstice, and he intended to share many more of his feelings with her.

_I suppose you'd better hang on then._

When the Ridorana Cataract crumbled, something cried out inside of him for the loss of his father, but t'is voice so weak that it didn't even top over the sound of the Strahl's engine that carried him far away from the fortress, far away from everything...

'_Goodbye old man.'_

In the failure of one, rises the success of another. Where Cid has fallen, Ashe shall triumph.

That was their role.

And as the final battle was near to come, he knew that it was time to fulfill his. But just before that, he had to keep his words and return to Balfonheim.

.

He found her at the same place he left her, just before Giruvegan, yet in a different state. Strong, beautiful Elza was leaning tiredly over the counter, a bottle of strong liquor in her hand. Like many others, she mourned Reddas' death.

Perhaps it wasn't a good time, but he wasn't quick enough to leave as she suddenly told him to sit down, fully aware that he had been standing behind her.

She sighed and pushed her hair back with a wave of the hand. She then looked at him for a long time, taking in his face slowly and sparing no details.

_Before, I could see arrogance in your eyes. They would look down on so many of us. But now they are so…clear. _

Elza suddenly laughed softly, lonely_._

_I might like you more than before.  
_  
He tried to lighten up the mood, just a bit. This was really not a good time.

S_urely you jest, Elza. Now, is that a way to say that I've grown to be a man worthy of you?_

Another quiet laugh, and then she nodded her head towards his companions that just entered the Whitecap, minus Fran who was probably verifying the Strahl.

The group saw him, but instead of coming over like how he wished them to, they settled for a table at the farthest end.

_Those two girls that travel with you… A tad bit young to be your lovers aren't they? Not like your usual. I remember you liking them older._

He crossed his arms. _The little one is off-limit; her heart's already taken for another sky for the other, two words: royalty and preacher. _

Elza smirked, her mood noticeably improving. _All the more fun for you isn't it? I feel that there is more to her than you would like to tell me. Don't worry, I'm not going to play the used-to-be lover who gives a hard time on the new one._

The thought of Ashe being his lover made him chuckle.

_She and I are nowhere near being lovers. A sad platonic relationship I might say. Now don't look at me with those wide eyes, I do not feast upon every woman around me. Even I can maintain a professional relationship from time to time. But yes, she is quite something... What she is trying to accomplish is nonsense yet she won't back down. Something that could easily be mistaken as a dream of grandeur if not guided properly. I don't like those types. It's like a star that thrives hard in the dark sky yet we all know that it will burn out eventually. Watching her efforts and the thought of her maybe not getting her just reward makes me... sick._

_Yet you are helping her, Balthier. Doesn't that mean something? Perhaps she will have a better end._

Jokingly, she added

_With you, perhaps?_

Balthier chuckled again.

_An amusing, yet improbable end. _

His voice then turned serious.

_But I'm sure that it is not my relationship with her that you wish to talk about. _

_You're right. It isn't. But it is not me who should to do the talking. _

_Oh? And what do you think that I need to talk to you about?_

_You want closure, yet you are unable to say it to me? _

_Perhaps I have already found it long ago, and needn't your help to come in term with it as you were too busy with what's-his-name?_

He knew that he was being unusually cruel, but he too was in mourning and Cid's last words keep ringing in his ears. It was making him lose his composure and he hated himself more by the second.

_Alright then, if it suits you._

She finished her drink and abandoned her stool.

…_You've really grown…take care of yourself Balthier._

Seeing him still giving her the cold shoulder, she caresses his face almost apologetically before heading towards the exit.

As he watched her getting further and still feeling inner turmoil, Balthier felt a change of heart and suddenly called out to her.

Elza stopped, turned and tilted her head. She was smiling, as if knowing that he would call her. She knew that he hated loose ends and that it was only a matter of time before he finally decides to settle what was left between them. He only needed a little push from her.

It was so…'Elza', to let _him_ end it, as to save the last of his childish pride that he showed when in front of her. Thinking about it, just how much patience did Elza put up with him in the old days when he used to show her off high and mighty as if she was another of his acquired possession?

_Don't let any man get a hold over you, Elza. And…be happy._

Slowly, she smiled and waved goodbye at him.

_I am._

Finally, he felt it. The closure for their chapter that he had kept open all this time. He watched her leave surrounded by the usual mob of admirers and it suddenly became apparent to him that before, he could always pick her out from the crowd, yet now she blended right in and disappeared. It looks like it was finally over between them. He was certain that in another life, they could have been more.

Balthier gave himself a satisfied nod and returned to the crew who was waiting for him and raised an eyebrow at the princess' inquisitive look.

_Personal affair? Though it is distasteful of my part to say this, but I would not have you involve with women while we are working together. I thought you finally understood how important what we were doing was._

He frowned.

_The world does not revolve around you and Dalmasca, Princess. I needed to attend to some_ _other important matters and now it is done._

On a lighter note, he could help but ease in a joke

_Now I'm all yours Princess._

His laugh didn't reach her when she left a bit too quickly.

The image of where Elza and he occupied a while ago was the last thing he took before he turned away to join his friends.

There was a battle against an Empire that needed his attention.

_._

As the leading man, he knows that when the time came, he would have to do something heroic. And the Bahamut had his name written all over it.

In the Strahl's engine room while he was tuning the glossair rings, Fran shot him a serious look, knowing full well his intentions. Balthier knows better than to ask her to stay, as much as she knew to not prevent him from going. Up to this point, it was pointless to discuss how far they would go for each other. They both smirked and made their way to the Strahl's entrance…

While making the reparations amidst the falling debris, Balthier's thoughts focused on Ashe's words as she announced the end of the war.

'_Well said, Princess'_ he thought. He then turned grim when he looked down at the station. It was all a mess and he could see Fran, the ever calm and composed Fran break into sweats.

_She will hold long enough to leave Dalmascan ground, but that's it._

_That's all we need._

He bent down and reached for some tools. He could feel the Bahamut falling apart under his feet. A few seconds later, Zargabaath's intentions were broadcasted through all radios and it made him scowl.

_Hasty, aren't they. I think it's a little early to be throwing away our lives just yet._

Hearing his friends' worries, he felt proud to have been part of the crew and when came Ashe's voice, he admits that he was somewhat surprised, but pleased.

_Princess! No need to worry. I hope you haven't forgotten my role in this little story. I'm the leading man. You know what they say about the leading man? He…never…dies!_

The last of the repairs was done and he clenched his fist in victory. Time to power the glossair ring and get out, but after getting no response from Fran, he turned towards her and discovered her pinned down under rubbles of metals.

_Please, Balthier, get off of there quickly. Please. If you die...if you die...I.. _her voice faded, but her despair was apparent._ (1)_

Fran, still dizzy and in his arms, heard her and let out a small chuckle.

_It's hard to be the handsome young man, isn't it?_

_Fran, please._

So the Princess has taken quite a liking to him, eh? Something he can look forward to brag about after he gets out.

For the moment, he would leave the Strahl in Vaan's hands, let the kid have his share of fun, before returning to claim everything back.

As he wrote the note, he couldn't help but plant a light kiss right above the word Queen, as he would have done to her hand, had the Rozarrian Prince not soil it first. He then searched through his pockets for the ring and dropped it into the pouch before letting the crystal hover away from him.

With the Strahl back in his hands and Fran next to him, he flew up and into the Sky of Ivalice.

.

.

She was a woman who was by all means the opposite of what would have been his ideal woman.

Where his mother would have been soft spoken and modest, this princess spoke with authority and her voice left no space for discussion.

Where Elza would have laughed and pressed her body to his in reward, Ashe simply looked blankly at him and pulled her hand back before walking away without even a word of gratitude.

Where the Strahl would quickly respond to his commands (however twisted or exaggerated they were) without fail and her engine would fire up immediately, this princess would immediately retort and find ways to pull his plans in the boundaries of moral, honor and discipline. He didn't doubt that _her_ engines were way too cold for any of his charms to turn on.

And where Fran would quietly listen to his problems and share a few wise words and proverbs from her people, never dragging him into her problems, Ashe had unknowingly sought his guidance and dragged him into adventures that put his and his partner's lives in peril more than once…

But when he lies on top of the Strahl at night to relive the memories of his long journey, he remembers her face. He remembers the princess, who sometimes when she thinks that no one was watching, would look up to the sky, eyes filled with worry and love for her people.

When he realizes that his thoughts have once again dwelled on the princess, Balthier chuckles and fold his arms behind his head, bidding the princess–no, Queen goodnight in his mind.

_Queen!_

Women who held the future of kingdoms or empires in their hands had never been in his favorite list, but for _that_ woman, he was willing to risk everything to put her back on the pedestal where she truly belonged.

.

.

Chapter V, Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca, End

.

* * *

(1) Please refer to the Japanese gamescript…


	6. The Sky of Ivalice

_She lies in wait, to welcome her children with her embrace of eternity_

-Memoirs of the Sky Pirates, as told by their descendants-

.

.

_Tell me Fran, where do you think our soul goes to when we die?_

_Poor choice for a topic as we thread towards the royal treasury room, Balthier_

_Humor me, my long-eared friend_

_...Vieras return to the Wood. Even we, who chose to detach ourselves from it. In the end, she forgives all and claims all. _

_Ah, a forgiving one, she is. Sounds lovely._

_Getting cold feet, my young friend?_

_Nay, but one can't help but think about these things once in a while._

_You have no thought of where you will be going after death?_

_Oh, but I do. I just wanted to know where I might go to find you if I ever got bored of my resting place._

_And where would that be?_

_Oh, Fran. Where else is a Sky Pirate to go, if not to return to _her_?_

_._

It has always seemed odd to him that the archives enclosing the history of Ivalice were filled with rich descriptions of the land and its people, but never mentioned anything about the sky. That supposedly smart people would unabashedly ignore it when their very airships are constantly defiling through the clouds exasperated him. Never was there a mention of the generous rain when the dry season killed the crops, the beautiful dying orange color that set the cities aglow, the winds that guided the sails of the airships, the weather that favored numerous battles through the centuries and millions of other things that fell under the label of 'divine interventions'. The people _needed_ gods to turn to in such times, someone that they could worship and give offerings to and better yet, throw rocks and insults at when things don't go their way (a dangerous business for opportunists who opened temples for these deities). The sky, at its infinite distance, seemed like an improbable target and was thus generally dismissed.

For Balthier, the sky was a woman, and he found certitude in his assertion once he got to know her terrible tantrums. It was worse for him when she was unpredictable and would veil the stars, his personal map, from the undeserving people of Ivalice who vented smoke into the air with their ill-intentioned inventions. Idiots would say that all he had to do was glance _downward_ while he flew, as it would provide the same pattern as any decent map would. But the Sky Pirate would complain that the land and structures were but a fleeting illusion. Given a few decades and one would mistake the land of the Garif with the Giza Plains. True Sky Pirates know that _she_ was the one to look out for and would not lead them astray. If they did get lost, it was either their incompetence that misled them, if not their arrogance at the thought that they had tamed her.

As for Balthier, he has learned to fear and respect her. Before a journey the man would dedicate a moment to search for indications of her upcoming mood, and he always somehow knew exactly what to look for. It was a different sign every time, and rarely was he mistaken in guessing them. Others would snort and say that they were lucky guesses, and that the latest maps with all the new secret passages were enough to cover them from her wrath if they were to go against her warnings. In later years, he would smirk whenever a billboard showed a list of missing airships that had ventured into the unknown and apparently got lost in the way.

Had he truly believe in the circle of reincarnation, he would have liked to be reborn as an eagle: to spend his days in the air, guided by the winds, chasing the clouds needlessly. Some would laugh at his say, but not Fran. She knew of what he spoke, and also heard the calling whenever she ventured near Golmore Jungle. She even admitted that she once wished to be a tree in the Woods; lean and tall to provide shade and fruits to her sisters, and watch over them forever.

_Do you ever regret doing it, Fran? Leaving?_

_No._

_I cannot even imagine leaving _her_ side._

_And I cannot even imagine never meeting _her.

_She's my home, Fran. I answer to her beck and call._

_For my case, the Woods' Green Word no longer reaches me. The next we meet will only be on the wake of my death._

Her voice betrayed no emotions, as she had made clear that she had turned away from that world and would not set foot near it unless someone 'pulled a Vaan' on her and forced the Viera to take extreme measures. But despite her stoniness in face of the prospect of not being welcomed back anymore, he knew that somewhere deep inside of her, a part of her longed to live in that place again, where war had been nothing but a distasteful word and the reality of it separated by kilometers of vines and trees. It was quite pathetic how little there was of his world that he could tell her about when she could relate endless tales around the Woods, where the taste of a single drop of dew on a certain flower would amaze even a King's sommelier.

_It sounds like paradise, compared to our lands. There are little places left untainted here._

_True. It was a beautiful place. I suppose I am glad that when the world will fail us, I know that my final resting place will be a good one._

_You are being a bit strange today, Fran. You aren't thinking of leaving me to fend off by myself at this point, are you?_

His was a light tone, but the worry had somehow managed to make itself apparent, for she had turned toward him and put an arm on his shoulder, her big round eyes boring into his own.

_It is you Humes who leave too soon, thinking that they have all the time in the world. Though it is comforting to know that _you _seem to think highly of where you will be going._

He smirked, squeezing her hand in return before turning his gaze upward.

_The best, Fran._

.

.

He was one who never felt fear of what (or perhaps he should say _who_) was to take him should the fatal blow ever befell upon him. Death was but a second beginning, into the embrace of the mother who birthed all true Sky Pirates.

She, who watched him grow up, who had mourned along with him for Viola, who had veiled Elza and him from prying eyes, who had kept her breath in his favor when he piloted the Strahl, who will always stay by Fran in his stead, who would watch over Ashe's kingdom and finally, who would reclaim him.

He was a man who had sworn fealty to none. But in the end, like all Sky Pirates, he returns to the Sky of Ivalice.

.

.

Chapter V, The Sky of Ivalice, End

* * *

There! The end to Balthier's journey... and mine lol. It was a monstrous project that I dragged for 3 years but I am quite satisfied with how it turned out. It took a while, but I'm glad I took it. And now I'm glad that it is done =D (though some editing and correcting might be in order... later. For now I'll enjoy the moment =P) It was fun to write about this character and my thanks to those who took the time to review. This chapter is for you!

Lastly, allow me to say:

**Path of the Prodigal Son, END**_._

Rinslet


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